But the truth was: John and I weren’t made of the same fabric. He wasthis—famous, polished, health insurance with a dental plan.
And I…was me. Nora. Girl with the bad attitude. Who ate social anxiety for breakfast and thoughtsurely the next tattoo will fix all my problems.
Ridiculous. I was ridiculous.
Dangerously close to becoming one of his fangirls.
Nausea tightened in my gut.
“Sorry, I gotta…”
As soon as I stepped outside, I knew how it looked. Dramatic. Obvious. But if I’d stayed in there, my face would’ve cracked wide open. And acting wasn’t my skill set. That was Otis’s domain.
Vivian’s appearance had thrown me completely off balance. And that scared me.
A few cloudy breaths later, Otis appeared beside me, rubbing his hands together and curling his shoulders in against the chill.
“You forgot your jacket, love.”
“Shit.”
He paused. “What’s going on? Do you want us to go?”
I looked up at him, my best friend. Iwantedto say yes. I wanted to leave. Go see the play, get drunk, forget John ever existed. But then I glanced over my shoulder at Jeremy, sitting alone now, looking at the seat Otis had left behind. And I looked back at Otis—whose smile was forced.
It didn’t matter that Jeremy was my direct competition.
It didn’t matter that I wanted to keep my Oatcake all to myself.
I could screw upmylove life, but that didn’t give me the right to mess with his.
I pulled the tickets from my purse and pressed them into his hand.
“You and I both know that’s thelastthing you want to do.”
Otis’s eyes widened. “If you want to go, we will.”
I pushed the paper slips firmer into his hand. “I know. But I’m no good company tonight. Honestly, I’m exhausted.” I fake yawned for effect.
Otis bit his lip. “I really like him.”
“Then go get yourself some juicy piece of English gentleman. I’ll be okay.”
“You sure?” he asked gently—soft in a way that said he'd ditch the whole night, take my hand, and drive me all the way back to Mom if that’s what I needed.
But what I needed...was space.
To think.
To breathe.
To figure out how to get John Kater out of my damn head.
“Yes. I’m fine. Gotta keep my eyes on the prize.”
Otis nodded, zipping up his jacket. “Your name on the game.”
“My focus on…a locus?” I tilted my head.
